Forevers Not Included
by kikis2
Summary: Nate/Serena. You and I were meant to be. Period. The end.  Cue Happy ending music. Hints of C/B, S/B.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and never will.

Summary courtesy of Dawson's Creek.

**A/N: Prequel to Falling to Pieces, but you don't have to read that. This was actually written last Christmas, and no, I have never been sober during the month of December, so this is disjointed and senseless.**

**Warning: This is Nate/Serena and their marriage. Lots of angst. Too much angst. Language. Don't like slashy vibes? Then this is not for you...Oh pfft, who doesn't like the vibes? **

Forevers Not Included: 1/2

_2016_

She's been in New York for exactly six hours and Serena is already feeling the strain.

The gossip had started, the stares never stopped, and she can't quite remember which Serena she is supposed to be. Definitely not the wild party girl, because when you hit twenty-five _most tequila shots done in a night_ is embarrassing, not an accomplishment. And not the girl in love with her best friend and sister-in-law, because not only did bisexuality go out faster than fluorescents, Monroe was the only one who could pull-off home-wrecking and look how well that turned out for her.

(How 'bout you be the girl who doesn't ruin everything?)

She can't help giving Chuck a bright grin across the table, because he makes the Kennedys look gentle as kittens, but would never use all that Bass' cunning on her. Well, he would, but probably not to kill her.

_Probably_.

Nate and Blair head to the dance floor, because in Blair's script Nate still gets some lines by mistake. With a flourish of his hand Chuck invites her too. Serena gives him a dramatic simper before taking his hand.

The song is slow and familiar; her body moves and her thoughts don't have to.

She slumps in Chuck's arms, hiding a yawn in his shoulder.

"Better not let Blair see you doing that," he warns ominously.

It was Blair and Chuck's first anniversary. Blair took that stuff seriously and they'd gone all out at the Empire. It's nearly midnight and people are heading home. The dim music and warm lighting is beginning to feel more comforting and less stifling.

"Why do you think I waited till now? And besides I just flew in, Blair can't possibly hold exhaustion against me."

Chuck's look is incredulous. "It's _Blair_. Of course she can. And you just got back from _Texas_, so don't use that jetlag bullshit on me."

Serena pulls back, but Chuck forces her to keep moving. "How did you know where I was?" She hadn't told him. She hadn't told anybody.

He just arches a brow. "Do you really want to know?"

A few years ago she would have demanded he tell her, and then she would have yelled and stamped her foot at his underhanded, unwanted, nosiness. And Chuck would be unchanged and unapologetic.

She likes to think she's gotten smarter.

"Not really."

"_P.J. Buckley_? What the hell were you thinking?" he hisses.

She almost laughs. It's only fair that if Chuck wants to keep tabs, those tabs gross him out. "I wasn't.

"The last thing me and P.J. were doing together was _thinking_," she adds just to torment him. P.J. was a sweet, uncomplicated relief: rich, spoilt and a bit of an asshole, but he'd made her laugh and sometimes that's enough.

"There are easier ways to get back at Carter."

Chuck just knows her, and his words aren't surprising. "Yeah?"

"Stay."

He leaves her in the middle of the song and shoves Nate out of the way. Blair scolds both of them, but smiles slow and wide as she moves into Chuck.

Nate and Serena are left partnerless in the middle of dancing couples. Once they'd have moved together: natural, magnetic, thoughtless leaves on the wind.

Their gazes meet and there's something huge and uncomfortable in the chasm between them.

They hadn't talked all that much in the last four years. After Blair and Serena, Nate had chosen Chuck and Blair.

Nate's lips quirk downwards and he moves across the tiles.

They sway, his hands rest on her hips and some people could mistake it for dancing.

It doesn't feel any less awkward, but they look it and she's back on the UES so that will do.

"How's Carter?"

"You don't care." _And I don't know_.

"Nope," he agrees, but it makes them both grin.

"So we're talking again?" She can never leave things alone, can never pretend well enough; it's why home—or the closest thing she has to one—has always felt just a little tight and scratchy.

"We were always talking, S."

It's a lie, but she doesn't call him on it. They dance in silence, bodies as perfectly in sync as always. She makes sure she can see straight over his shoulder to where Chuck and Blair are. (Her eyes will always drift there.)

"Give them a chance," he whispers.

Serena stiffens, but Nate's graceful enough that no one notices. She wished he hadn't said that.

"When you were away...They were almost—" He shakes his head, sandy blond hair reflecting the light. "Give Chuck a chance, a _real_ one, to make her happy. That's all I'm asking."

_A chance_. She's had so many—people keep on handing them out, even when she knows she doesn't deserve them—she doesn't have the right to deny anyone else theirs.

"How?" She doesn't know how to be here and not be with Blair.

"Well..." He looks a little taken aback. "Where you staying?"

She glances at him in chagrin. She never really thought about it. She turns up and Chuck or Blair hand her a key to one of the Bass suites—that's just the way things went.

"You can stay with me," he offers, almost shy. "We can slum it on the Upper _West_ Side," he teases.

It should be weird: this offer from a long-time friend, sometime enemy, and one-time lover, but it isn't. After a million sleepovers and summers in the Hamptons, it just feels normal. And she needs a little of that and she just _knows_ they'd have fun together.

She flutters her eyelashes. "Well, I do like roughing it."

**XOXO**

She meets Blair for a late breakfast the next morning. Serena wraps her arms around Blair's shoulders, burying her face in chocolate waves. She feels like crying into Blair's hair and she can't even say why. It's harder to let her go then she wants to admit.

Blair picks at her croissant thoughtfully. She'd been happy with Chuck. It was almost perfect. But just Serena's presence stirs unrest, makes her think that the happiness might have been hollow, because it didn't feel like _this_. Like everything in the world was just right. Like this moment—looking out at the sunny but cool winter morning, clinging to her best friend's hand from a hard cafe chair—was the epitome of perfection.

"Where are you staying?" Blair sips her affogato, deciding it was a special enough occasion to warrant the million and a half calories.

Serena's smile slips. "With Nate." She forces the smile back on. "Figured as long as I'm here I could keep an eye on him for you." Serena had suffered through numerous hour long tangents from Blair about how slutty-Nate is a total disaster. She's already listened to Nate's voice mail and has to agree that his girlfriends sound a little annoying and a lot dumb.

Blair slips on an icy mask of pleasantry. "Oh, how lovely! I'm sure the two of you will have such a wonderful time together—though I'd make sure he wraps it up, the last blonde bimbo in his apartment was a little rough around the edges. But I'm sure that doesn't bother _you_."

Serena rolls her eyes, unimpressed by Blair's snipes. "B, it's not even like that. Nate and me are friends," she mumbles through another bite of chocolate and pastry.

Blair's stomach clenches uncomfortably and she pushes her plate away, sickened at the thought of the huge lump of carbs already inside her. "Like the way we're friends?"

The deceptively sweet words hurt the way they were intended. Serena's eyes flash. "No, not even close and you know it."

"I wonder how long that will last."

With a last longing glance at her plate, Serena stands to place a light kiss on Blair's cheek. "Call me when sane-Blair wants to come out and play."

**XOXO**

They last for exactly three days without having sex.

Serena's in the lounge flipping through _Hello!_. Her pyjamas and toothbrush are bundled up on her lap; she hasn't done a full invasion of Nate's cabinets yet. The bathroom door opens in a haze of steam and a dripping Nate with a white towel wrapped around his slim hips.

Serena throws her magazine to the side, standing with an exaggerated sigh. "You're worse that a girl, Nate. I could have died out here."

Nate just smirks, roughly scrubbing a towel through his hair. "Then maybe you shouldn't wait till it's time for _my_ shower before you need the bathroom."

She drops her stuff on the bathroom sink, leaving the door open while she pulls her hair into a messy bun. "But I never know I want a shower till I hear yours."

"How inconvenient for you," Nate laughs, walking back into the bathroom. "Need my comb," he explains, reaching around her.

And it's just a look. Barely a glance, really. But of their own will, Serena's eyes travel over his tanned, dripping and very close chest in the mirror. She looks away, biting her lip. When she looks back Nate's grinning impishly.

"What?" she demands, flushing in discomfort.

Nate raises his hands innocently. "Nothing."

They both still, neither one wanting to make the next move. Nate braces one arm on the sink and leans forward. It's just the lightest brush of lips over the back of her neck. Serena shivers, closing her eyes. She knows the game well; it's a subtle touch that puts the ball in her court. She can reach up and fiddle with her hair and then Nate will grab his comb and disappear. And it would be like nothing ever happened.

But she's not that kind of girl.

She arches her throat in open invitation. Without pause Nate's lips fall onto her skin in gentle caresses. His arms surround her waist and she leans against him in absolute surrender. He nips at the base of her neck, forcing her eyes to open and meet his questioning glance in the mirror.

It's a sobering look. They're not fifteen anymore and there's not enough champagne in the world to wash away another one of their mistakes. "Maybe we—"

Because Nate _is_ that kind of boy.

She cuts him off by turning and linking her arms around his neck. His bare skin is so warm even the droplets still clinging to him retain their heat. She captures his lips with hers and he still tastes the same as he did nine years ago. Her fingers slip under his towel and her nails run over him teasingly. "...Should go to your bedroom?" His towel falls off and her hand turns from teasing to demanding. "Good idea, Natie."

Nate looks somewhere between amused and desperate, his body pulled taut as a string. "Yeah, I have those sometimes."

**XOXO**

Serena's been in front of her laptop for close to three hours when she hears a key in Nate's lock. Her ears sharpen, and when the door opens and the sharp sound of heels crossing tiles follows she doesn't relax.

Blair's in front of her scowling at the poster-filled walls and the lounge covered in clothes Serena couldn't make a decision over. Her scowl only deepens when she sees Serena on the floor in her underwear and white wife beater. She almost says something stupid like _that doesn't fit you_, but looks away before she can make more of a fool of herself.

Serena tugs at Nate's shirt self-consciously, curling her legs into her chest. "You have a key?" she asks, then winces at her guilt-ridden question..

Blair just stares at her unhappily for a second or two. "Chuck has a key," she replies dryly, knowing every incriminating thought going through Serena's head. She couldn't be sure, not really, but Serena looks like she's about to start hyperventilating. She doesn't know how Serena made it this long without the ability to lie.

Blair takes a last look around the messy apartment, and at Serena in all her ravished glory. In her pumps and Versace she knows which piece doesn't belong. "I've got to go."

Serena gets to her knees, hands clenched so tight her nails will leave marks on her palms. She should say something. She _would_, but what will make this better? So she just kneels there and listens as the click of heels disappears and when they're gone she goes back to looking for a job and doesn't think about why all the words blur together.

**XOXO**

She honestly didn't think things were going to be easy. She thought Blair would freeze her out or something. But Blair calls the very next days and invites her and Nate over for dinner.

Chuck shoves a bite of an asparagus in his mouth and looks around the table with mild curiosity. Blair talks constantly and says nothing. But there's no room for someone else to comment. Blair can eat, breathe, talk and never let a second of silence live—it's actually pretty amazing. Serena plays with her food and shoots pleading looks at Blair.

Nate eats happily, apparently unaware of the awkwardness.

Sometime between the entrée and main course, Blair and Serena slip into the next room. Blair is ready for the apology that never comes.

"Do you remember what you use to tell me?" Serena whispers as she pulls Blair close.

"Don't mix Westwood with Gaultier?" Blair feels uncertain, the world is turning and she can't see where it will stop.

"You said this is what we deserved. That you and Chuck, me and Nate—that's the life that was promised us at our over privileged births."

Blair's eyes drop to the floor. That's Upper East Side Speak: the kind of words that slip from her mouth without any confirmation from her brain. She never thought they'd be used against her.

"Maybe this is it," Serena shrugs. "Our chance, you know? Maybe we do get those happily-ever-afters."

"Maybe," Blair repeats. _But my happily-ever-after just said goodbye._

**XOXO**

They're all at the White Party together when Nate takes Serena's hand and leads her towards the beach. He glances over his shoulder, shooting Chuck a boyish grin. Chuck smiles back without enthusiasm, tightening his arm around Blair's shoulders. Already there's an alarm going off in Blair's head, but her hand tightens on her champagne flute and she turns her back on the retreating couple.

Nate leads her to a quiet stretch of beach; it's early and guests haven't strayed down to the water's edge.

"What are we doing, Nate?" She tugs on his hand, but doesn't try to slip away. The sun's beating down unforgivably and sand is slipping into her heeled sandals, but Nate's skin against hers makes it all feel good.

Nate just gives her a Colgate-commercial-worthy smile, his eyes shining with excitement.

He gets down on one knee and Serena thinks about the sand that's going to stick to his crisp white pants. She doesn't hear what he asks, because for a moment she's standing on a Greek beach, and it's not Nate's grin, it's a beautiful smirk, and it's not Nate's cornflower blue eyes she's looking into, but ice-blue ones, shining with love and the barest edge of hope. There's a sapphire ring surrounded by diamonds left on their bed, but Carter's closet is empty.

Then she's back in the Hampton's and it's not Carter in front of her, it's Nate smiling hopefully. And this time doesn't feel like a betrayal of everything they are, everything that they stand for. It just feels _easy_. So she squeals, flies at Nate too fast for him to react and they both topple into the sand, and there's no more thoughts about white linen and wet sand.

**XOXO**

It may be the worst thing Serena's ever done, but she _cannot _get married without Blair by her side. And it's not like she asks Blair to be her bridesmaid, it just happens. It's all scripted—probably a tragedy—there's no other choice.

They go dress shopping and there's missing scenes. Enthusiasm is overwhelmed by uncertainty. Lines aren't said, replaced with drawn-out, uncomfortable silences while Blair pretends to be preoccupied.

Serena never asked Blair's thoughts on the marriage, but Blair tells her with bitter smiles, long glances, and with her mastery of the not-so-silent treatment.

It's just going to be a small spring wedding at the van der Bilt's so Serena picks out a white dress that's just the barest draping of silk. Blair knows that Serena will look beautiful, that the dress will flutter freely in the wind, that everyone will _ooh_ and _ah_ over how the dress was just made for her.

Serena smiles, hesitant but sweet. "How do I look?"

Blair looks over her blackberry, smiling archly. "Underdressed for brunch." She goes back to typing up nonsense notes.

**XOXO **

The night before the wedding they all stay in the van der Bilt manor and Serena can't sleep. She ends up in the library reading Cicero, who she imagines bored the Roman Empire to death.

Chuck went looking for his wife who disappeared from their bed in the middle of the night. He's not surprised when he finds Serena; he's only surprised that she's not fondling his wife in an abandoned closet.

He throws himself in the chair across from her. "Can't sleep?"

Serena shakes her head with a grimace that was meant to be a smile. "I'm all nervous and jittery."

She fiddles with the edge of her robe when Chuck doesn't say anything, just watches her in that annoyingly knowing way he has.

"What?" she asks, more hostile than she intended.

He raises his brow. "Nothing."

She looks away. "Just say it, Chuck."

"You don't want to hear it."

She looks back with a full glare this time. "What? You think I'm doing the wrong thing?"

Chuck lets out a derisive sniff. "You _definitely_ don't want me to answer that, _sis_."

He thinks about just letting it go, because it's not going to change one fucking thing, but what's the point of being right when you can't even say _I told you so_?

"You're going to hurt Nathaniel." _Mind-fuck him like you've been doing since we were twelve_. "All of us, probably." _And I don't know if I can fix it._

She shakes her head stubbornly. "Then what's the right thing, Chuck?"

He shrugs. He can't answer that and doesn't try. _Wrong _has always been more up his alley.

**XOXO**

Their honeymoon was perfect. There are no other words. Serena feels sorry for the people who will never spend two and a half weeks on a Pacific island, sipping Mai Tais and having sweaty, messy sex on moonlit beaches.

Nate leaves a month and a half after they get married. He'll be gone for twice that long, working on some midterm election campaign. For the first week she watches every news channel she can, hoping for a quick glimpse of Nate behind Senator Campbell.

She waits for nine days before calling Blair. Blair tries to blow her off, claiming she's had a day booked at the spa for months. Serena laughs with fake delight. Ignoring Blair's tone, she blithely invites herself along.

**XOXO**

Blair does her best to ignore Serena. The spa treatment wasn't a lie. She needs it more than she can admit. The last month was bad enough that Chuck spent every minute he could at the office and even Dorota did her best to lay low.

Just like always, in one fell swoop, Serena turns their whole world upside down and can't even feign an apologetic expression. They had _rules_. They might be unspoken, unwritten and unacknowledged, but they were rules, damn it. Blair got Chuck and in return Serena got flings around the world. But in New York _she _came first. She could deal with Serena leaving whenever the stars aligned, or whatever, but when she was home...that had to be different. That was supposed to be _theirs_.

And now they had nothing.

And it hurt worst of all that Serena had given up the rest of the world for Nate. Serena had given _her_ up for Nate.

In the sauna Serena shuffles closer. Her hair, damply bundled on top of her head, resembles the colour of honey. Blair focuses on the wispy strands sticking to her friend's face, doing her best not to notice the slightly watering navy eyes.

Serena drops her head onto Blair's shoulder and the brunette tenses under her touch. Serena just stares straight ahead at the stone walls. "Can't you forgive me, B?" Her voice breaks somewhere in the middle. "Even a little?"

Blair sighs, hating Serena's pitiful sincerity, hating the way she falls for it every time. She buries her face in those honeyd locks. "No." Her arms wrap around Serena's shoulder and their bodies slip together. It's perfection. It's home. The only one she can't live without. "Never," she lies.

**XOXO**

It's weird. To be so crazy in love, with no games, no pretension.

When Nate finally gets home she can't remember ever being this happy. He drops his bags in the entryway, already searching the house.

When he finds her in their bedroom she's grinning like an absolute dork. She doesn't run to him, but it's a close thing. She throws her arms around his neck and he pulls her up so her feet leave the ground.

"I missed you!" she shouts between planting quick kisses over his face.

Nate's never smiled so hard in his life. "Good," he replies honestly, looking up at her as if she's the only thing in the world.

She laughs, wriggling till he puts her down. "We are _so _lame."

Nate nods seriously. "Marriage has made us totally uncool."

Serena is already unbuttoning his shirt. "'Sif you were ever cool, Archibald."

He follows dutifully when Serena tugs him to the bed. "Then it's lucky I have you to be uncool with, _Archibald_."

She falls backwards onto the bed and Nate tumbles after her. "Be uncool later. You owe me three months of newlywed sex."

This is what life is supposed to be. Just her legs wrapped tight around Nate's hips and Nate shoving her bra cup down, because he's too impatient to struggle with a clasp.

This is what love is supposed to be.

**XOXO**

Blair answers the door on a Sunday when her only expected company was Audrey. She can't help returning Carter's infinitely cocky smirk with one of her infinitely contemptuous ones.

She returns to her chaise lounge, unwilling to invite him in or kick him out. Carter trails her with sure strides. Blair gives him a once over, barely suppressing a roll of her eyes at his perfectly cultivated dishevelled look.

He roams around the room, staring at the walls and ceiling as if her home is the headliner of a sideshow.

"What brings you to New York?" she asks lazily, as if the answer wasn't blonde and obvious.

"Can't I just stop in to say 'hi' to an old lover?" He pauses his nosing to give a charmingly lascivious grin.

"Not with my delicate gag reflex, you can't. Where have you been anyway, or do I even want to know?"

"I found an Indian mystic who was helping me to rid myself or earthly desires. Unfortunately he was lacking, because I missed my grande chai lattes," he replies, without a hint of embarrassment.

Blair only forces a yawn; Carter's trustafarian tales are pathetic enough that they need no further ridicule. A discomforting thought is turning over in her head: sure he's been playing at plebeian, but even New Delhi has _E!_, right? She moves to rearrange a vase of flowers, as Carter stalks around the room like an unruly predator. "I suppose you're here to congratulate Serena and Nate on their nuptials?"

From the corner of her eye she catches the way Carter stumbles, the devastated look he turns her way. With unexpected pity she doesn't even glance at him, just plays with her hydrangeas and keeps her voice light and even. "They're out at the Hamptons, of course. Nate sold his apartment; completely impractical, but you know Serena, I suppose." She turns back only after giving him enough time to pull himself together.

Blair can sense the calm, knows she can weather any storm. Carter might just be the storm she needs. Nate, Carter, it doesn't really matter; she'll always be the last one standing. But Carter was never an opponent. Carter _shares_.

Maybe someone else would hesitate—would think twice about trying to destroy her soul mate's marriage. But she's come too far. _What's you is me_. She knows Serena better than Serena knows herself. And she knows the difference between real happy and happy-for-now.

Her mind already twirling through the game, she questions the pawn that fell into her lap, "Do you need their address?" Her eyes give nothing away.

Carter's face is blank, his gaze distant. His lips move into a humourless smile. "Their address would be great."

Blair calls for Dorota to find a pen and paper.

She hands over the folded paper, and, for the barest second, allows the mask to drop. "One more chance: don't fuck it up." She expects a laugh and sarcastic comment, but Carter gives her a long glance, reminding her that there's a sharp mind somewhere under all that feigned bed-hair. He salutes her, address in hand, and an unlikely camaraderie is born.

_tbc… _

**R&R**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Read and Review. Flaming welcome. :)

_If you and I aren't meant to be, then I don't know anything_

-Dawson's Creek

**XOXO**

Carter takes one look around her home—at its Italian-shipped tiles and post-modern furniture—then smiles ruefully. He's not even slightly impressed by the Badgley Mischka designed fabric on her lounge. "Where are you, S?"

Excuses for the mansion rush to her tongue. _The house was a present_. _Nate loves it_. But she's done nothing wrong (recently). Nothing at all. It's not her fault she didn't turn out the way he wanted. She's never been what anyone wanted. It's everyone else's fault that they could never see what she really was. "Are you angry at what I am, or that you're not the one with me?"

Carter glowers. Not at her, but everything around her. But then he laughs, quiet and insincere. "Aren't you?"

She shakes her head, but Carter's fingers stroke along her jaw till her eyes fix on his face. She knows what he's doing and she doesn't stop him. Doesn't say a word.

His kiss is slow and soft. Silky lips leave her feeling desperate and hungry. She pulls away, face warm and head spinning. "Don't do that."

"I know you, Serena." _You won't be happy here. You won't be trapped here. You can't live with what ifs. You grab life with both hands and now you're letting me and the world slip through your fingers._

Restless fingers twirl in her necklace till the sapphire ring on the end digs sharply at her skin.

"Get out." She's won't be that girl anymore.

"Anything you want." He turns away. Spotting Nate in the doorway he adds an insinuating, "_Anytime_, beautiful."

With a grin and a friendly clap on Nate's tense back, he's gone. He catches a flight out that night, knowing how much Serena hates to be left behind. She'll hear about his adventures and someday soon she'll start looking up at every plane that crosses the sky. Watching and wondering.

Mission accomplished.

**XOXO**

Blair and Chuck arrive promptly at seven for dinner. A wide-eyed maid lets them in and with closed ears leads them through to the sitting room.

For a moment Blair and Chuck just stare at each other, not reacting to Nate's strained voice or Serena's hisses. Blair looks around, quickly settling for yesterday's _Financial Review_. Chuck watches on as Blair nonchalantly flips through the pages.

"What's going on, Blair?" He doesn't believe for one second that Blair's either uninterested or uninformed.

She looks over the pages innocently. "How should I know?"

"You always know."

Blair simpers. "I'm hungry."

"So I have to—?" But Blair's already turned back to the newspaper. Of course he has to. Doesn't he always?

Their words become clearer the closer Chuck gets to the dining room.

"Why can't you just believe me?" Serena pleads.

"You forget." Nate throws the words back into her face, "_I know you, Serena_."

"You know noth—" She catches Chuck's bland face. With a last glare at Nate she spins on her heel. "I'll check on dinner."

Nate disappears up the stairs, mumbling something about a shower.

Before Chuck can even turn, Blair's at his side. She rests her hands gently around his arm, like something from a Jane Austen novel he's never read. "Well, this isn't going to be uncomfortable at all," she murmurs.

Is that a simper or a smirk? He looks, trying to decipher the shadows behind her cool brown eyes. "I can't help but think…" _What have you done?_

"As long as you think it, not say it," she snaps. "Aren't you going to get my chair?" she adds breezily.

**XOXO**

She's not unhappy. That's not it at all. But did her ring always weigh so much? Did it have to be so obvious?

Suddenly she can see the cords tying her down. But this is love, isn't it?

Nate doesn't drink—well, not with her. But he has friends and workmates. One night, she stays in the city—dinner and wine with girlfriends—to pick Nate up.

He smiles, grins brilliant and charming. They spin on Manhattan streets, kiss until she's breathless and giggling.

He nuzzles her neck, warm lips brush against her ear. "I love you, so much. _So _much." His hands rove down her back, massaging her flesh. His voice comes soft and hot in her ear. "_God, I wish I didn't_."

**XOXO**

They spend Christmas together at the Archibald's Hampton house, the way Blair use to plan they would. Only Nate is married to Serena and she's married to Chuck, but she can see the skeleton bones of her dreams in Chuck's sardonic wearing of a Christmas hat and Nate bent over his new toys. Serena might not be drunk, but she's clearly trying.

The blonde is on her back under the tree, running a discarded ribbon across the floor for her puppy to chase.

Chuck throws a whole bush of mistletoe at her along with an overtly sleazy wink. Serena giggles, tosses it back and flips him off.

"We should get a real tree next year, Natie." She shoots her husband a vague and tipsy smile.

"The fake one suits us better."

Nate doesn't look up from his scuba set, and Serena's smile is frozen in place as she goes back to playing with the puppy.

Chuck's hand in hers is a comfort, but there's no flesh here anymore.

**XOXO**

Serena nearly gets lost one day—not lost in the sense of upside down maps and unfamiliar streets, she just gets this unshakable feeling that she's in the wrong place.

She thinks about going to the airport, wondering if she'll see _right_ written on the departures screen, but she's already got bags in her hands. _Can't get on a plane with that many bags_. For a dizzying second she thinks even if she drops the bags and bolts, the plane still wouldn't be able to take off under all her baggage.

She finds herself at The Palace bar, asking for vodka martinis, even though they give her a migraine now. Nate can smell gin even under breath mints.

She doesn't even blink when, like clockwork, Chuck walks in an hour before he's supposed to finish work. It's kind of their thing now: uptown bars and painful banter. She doesn't bother questioning how he knew she was there, just accepts it as the mixed-blessing he always is.

Most people would consider this a bad meeting place, after truffle oil, bar fucks, and countless digressions. But Chuck and Serena aren't most people. They know their mistakes, inside and out. Know that you can run forever and a mile and the only thing you can escape is a time zone. So they wallow in their mistakes, hoping they'll remember to make less.

He slips, silent and confident, into the stool beside hers, barely looks at her as he signals the bartender.

She bites her lip, twirling a toothpick in her fourth martini. Chuck has a tendency to make things either much better or much worse.

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world..."

Her lips quirk, glad he's chosen _better_, but she doesn't have the energy for a smile. "...I walk into yours."

He turns the full weight of his gaze on her, amused and piercing. Only the vodka stops her from flinching. She doesn't want Chuck in her head today; it's not a nice place.

She finishes her fifth, before they talk again.

"Does it get easier?"

"What?" His lips move into that wonderful smirk, so ready to be amused by the fucked up nature of life.

She doesn't want to say the things she thinks, doesn't know how to tell him how awful she feels most of the time. Alone one minute, crowded the next. "Being _good_...You know?"

He did know. Marriage. Monogamy. Monotony.

Chuck is uncharacteristically hesitant. _Yes_ would be the right answer, the comforting one. He finally settles on, "If you're with the right person."

He knows what he's implying, knows how his response will burn.

Serena smiles grimly. "And you are?"

"I am." The answer is instantaneous, not even a hint of doubt. Because there was none. He married his perfect partner. He's just not certain Blair married hers.

Two more drinks and Serena is malleable enough to shove in a town car and send back to the Hamptons.

He hopes she can keep her buzz through dinnertime.

**XOXO**

Blair expects Serena's calls, waits for those marriage complaints almost eagerly. But they don't come. If Nate has complaints, Chuck won't say. Serena loses ten pounds, and covers it up with more highlights and a new Spring wardrobe.

She sits in bed, drinking a gimlet.

Chuck buries his face in a pillow, letting out a harsh, "Leave them alone, Blair."

_You're doing enough of that for the both of us_.

But she sips her drink in silence. She can't just sit while Serena fades. She looks at the big picture, sees no light at the end of the tunnel.

She calls Carter, gets sent to voicemail.

_Serena was ever the photogenic one._

She does not do this for herself.

**XOXO**

They fight. It's big and awful and by the end she's crying and can't remember why. Nate balls the photos up in his fist, throws some out the window, throws the rest in her direction.

She's everywhere, in bikinis on beaches and bars, in bed in less than that. And always Carter is there. With a smile despite her flesh covering his mouth.

"They're old, Nate!" She folds the photo's corners over and over again.

"_But, why do you have them_?"

_I don't know. I don't. _The photo tears in her hands, breaking that pretty smile.

**XOXO**

For the second time in a month, Nate watches as she stumbles out of Chuck's town car, hair mussed, lipstick gone. And he wants to know so badly his heart stops for a single beat. _Where were you? Why are you drunk? Was it Blair? Why is it never me?_

At dinner her hands feel thick and clumsy.

Nate doesn't look at her, not once. Not even when she drops a glass and it splits in two.

"That was a wedding present, you know." He slices at his salmon, face empty.

_I'll fix it_. But the words don't come out. She grabs her bag and walks out the door. There's always an empty suite at The Empire and the hotel staff can remember who her mother was married to, even if one or two of the husbands slip her mind on occasion.

_Be good. Be good. _

She tries, she really does, but her fingers move by themselves and her phone is ringing before she can realise she's not eating dinner anymore.

**XOXO**

Blair wants to play her cards carefully, wants to be a _friend_. But that's not what they are. Not really. So she cups Serena's face, swiping away a mascara stained tear with her thumb. "Leave, S," she whispers fiercely. "Just leave him."

The blonde shakes her head violently. "_I can't_."

Blair tries to find something she can understand on Serena's face. "Why? Do you love him that much? Do you love me so little?"

"No!" She sucks in a shaky breath. "I do. I mean… I love him. But I signed up for better or worse. I meant it. _I did_." She didn't lie. She can't just leave. He's her _husband_.

_And she will not be her mother. _

Blair struggles not to stamp a foot in childish anguish. "You did not sign up for a lifetime of misery!"

"I'm not miserable," she murmurs. Her eyes close and more tears overflow.

"'Course not. You look perfectly fine," Blair snaps back.

Serena cracks open an eye and lets out a wet laugh that quietly turns into hiccupping sobs. She covers her face with her hands, leaning her head against Blair's stomach.

Blair gazes down worriedly, letting her hands run down Serena's hair.

Serena's voice comes to her faint and mumbled through her dress. "I don't know why I can't just be happy."

**XOXO**

Plans are laid before she gathers her Xanax-laden bravery less than a week later.

_I'm sorry, Nate. I always meant to love you more._

_Is that all you can say?_

_We tried, didn't we?_

She can't really remember what was said. Just the tightness of her throat, Nate's not-quite-tears, and the knowledge that those ropes tying her down might be the only thing keeping her from sinking.

**XOXO**

Blair doesn't sleep on Tuesday night. Excitement and fear duel it out till she gives up and heads to her office. Nerves make it hard for her to concentrate and her mind can't follow any line of thought. By seven a.m. she has to use more concealer than Vanity Fair would ever approve of just to cover up the dark circles.

Her day is just a blur of faceless employees and approved sketches she knows she'll have to go over again. She's only a tad disappointed when Serena isn't there when she gets home.

By nightfall she's already cried twice.

It's an hour before midnight when the elevator finally opens.

Blair's reading dry-eyed in the sitting room. Sobbing and waiting for something that will never be hers is embarrassing. Never again, she swears to herself.

She doesn't look up when Serena comes in. She can already tell that the blonde isn't carrying any bags. She can already guess the expression, the excuses. The _I'm-so-sorries_ and _Nate-really-needs-mes_ already leave her bitter and hollow

The silence drags on till her almost-tears turn into an anger she can barely breathe through.

She throws her novel to the ground and stands in the swirl of her silk robe. Blair breaks—tears well and words that barely make sense pour out. "What, Serena? _What_?"

And Blair should have looked up earlier, because Serena's already broken.

The blonde's a mess of reddened eyes, and tangled hair and she would cry at Blair's screams—because for all their million fights Blair's never really screamed at her—but she's all dried up and no words are going to change that. Slowly she walks to Blair's side and crumples onto the lounge. Her eyes close she doesn't want to know what Blair's expression will be. She doesn't even know if she can live with her own pain.

"I'm pregnant, B"

And that's enough.

Blair sits back down and doesn't say a word. There are none. She can't even summon a flippant congratulations. Serena lays her head in Blair's lap and there's a desolate loneliness on her face that Blair can feel echoed in every molecule of her body. And suddenly Blair knows what all those black and white movies tried to convey. It was Ashley's face when Mellie died and what Ilsa must have looked like on board that plane.

_That's what a broken heart looks like._

A decade of evasions, and boyfriends, marriages and fights—they pale beside this. Because Serena is pregnant. And Serena will never leave Nate now. And Blair and Serena will never be together. And neither one of them will lift a finger to change that.

They curl up together and Blair clings as if Serena is the last solid object in her world. Serena feels real and soft. She traces her fingers over the planes of a face more familiar than her own. There's the thin trembling eyelids, and spiky eyelashes of darkest gold. Heated cheeks, clammy with dried tears. (_Remember this._) She leans close to golden waves that smell like vanilla and citrus. (_Remember this_). Just once she presses her lips against Serena's and she tastes like warmth and home. (_Remember this_.) Blair doesn't shut her eyes for a long time, watching as Serena's breath evens out and tension and disappointment flee for a few hours of peace.

_Remember this._

_Because it's all you have._

**XOXO**

Serena makes a million promises to the bundle of cells in her stomach. Little ones and big ones.

_I'll never make you wear dresses when you want to wear jeans. _

_I'll be there for every birthday. _

_You'll never feel like an outsider in mommy's new marriage. _

They all say the exact same thing.

_I'm not Lily._

It's odd, because she didn't want this baby. She wasn't even certain she was going to keep it. She's still not sure she made the right choice. She's not maternal and she knows she'll make more mistakes than anyone can forgive.

But she's fallen in love. Fallen like she hasn't since she was fifteen and not quite innocent.

**XOXO**

Nate is an hour and a half plane ride away when Blair gets the call.

She doesn't know what to do. Every ounce of socialite poise and Queen B calm melts at the sound of Serena whimpering and making little-girl sounds of agony.

It feels like forever and she's never been so thrilled to see Nate in her life. Nate looks at least as overwhelmed as she feels. His hair sticks up in odd clumps, like his hand has been running through it constantly.

"Where is…? Why aren't you…?"

"They have to do an…." _Emergency isn't a word anybody wants to hear right now._ "They're doing a C-section, so we can't be in there. But it's good, quicker this way."

Nate's eyes fly wide as all colour leaves his face.

"She's fine, Nate." She'll say it till it's true.

"Yeah, yeah," he repeats, but not like he believes it.

"Hundreds of women are doing the exact same thing, at this very minute. Serena and the baby are going to be fine." The words would be more convincing if Chuck didn't have that deathly stillness around him.

But as always, Chuck's right. It's only a thirty minute surgery before they get to meet the newest, nameless Archibald. Serena looks a little dazed, but almost uncannily healthy, as if she could do this every day. Serena's mother and her Humphrey tag-alongs arrive shortly after. She takes the baby, while Nate continues to touch white wisps of hair in awe.

"You see it?" Chuck asks. His discomfort around the Humphreys has subsided to the point that he can barely tell if they're in the room or not. Lily or no Lily, Serena was family.

"Yeah," she whispers from Serena's side, brushing golden locks back in an exact mimicry of Nate.

"You'll look after her?" Serena breathes, one eye on Blair, the other on her baby. She doesn't want Nate to hear. Blair's taken care of her for more years than she can count, there's no one she trusts more.

She makes Blair and Chuck godparents before her mother can look disapproving and remind her of how responsible Jennifer is. It feels good. Blair and her made the godmother promise over a fruit rollup.

The promises made at eight have a sacredness her post-puberty ones lack.

**XOXO**

Lilianne Rose Archibald, Lila, lives up to everything expected from a child of Nate and Serena. With flaxen blonde hair and smoky blue eyes, she's Lily all over. She's quick to tears, quicker to giggles, and never in one place for more than a second.

Blair doesn't expect to like her. Not only were children annoying in general, this one had cost her Serena. But she becomes _Arny Beee_ and all of the sudden those smiles she faked won't go away. _Unka Chars_ does not have the same effect on Chuck. Not in public, anyway.

She holds onto the information, wonders whether to stay silent. Lila sits on Serena's lap and they play an uncoordinated clapping game.

"I heard Carter got married," Blair says suddenly.

Chuck and Nate give her an unhappy glance.

Serena pauses for a second, looks into the distance. Lila keeps clapping and Serena laughs, coming back to the present.

"Good. I hope he's happy."

**XOXO**

They don't expect to be good parents. There's always a nanny and a maid and someone there behind them, making sure they don't screw up the only truly pure thing they've ever done. But when Serena's alone with Lila, just playing, making sure she doesn't eat her blocks, it's good.

She talks to Nate, they fall asleep next to each other, but they don't heal for a long time. They're too tender and so afraid of being hurt again.

Serena rolls onto her stomach, wanting every inch of her skin to get its fair share of sunshine. Nate and Lila play their favourite game in only half a foot of water. Lila clings to her daddy's legs, but she can't walk yet and even standing is a shaky experience. She gets knocked over by the waves last breath more often than not. She goes under and Nate reaches down to heave her up giggling and sputtering water.

Serena tells them when to stop, when she can see her daughter's giggles quietening with exhaustion.

Nate pours a bucket of water on her tanning back and tries to blame Lila.

**XOXO**

One day she finds Nate on a pool lounge. He's still in his suit, papers strewn all around him. Neither one have the energy for life let alone work.

She tiptoes closer, and can see he's sleeping peacefully. She brushes her lips over his eyelids, moves her fingers under his shirt. Her lips travel to his throat and up again. By the time her mouth reaches his, she's tugging at his zipper and his hands have her dress over her hips.

For one moment she knows where she is. Nate's under her, inside her, clutching her tightly, but she's not trapped.

They try to catch their breath, but fail when they spot her bra drifting in the pool.

She's not trapped, because this is the only place she wants to be.

**XOXO**

They're given two years. Two years when what they have is enough. In those two years they're given so much that nothing will ever feel like enough again.

**XOXO**

Blair keeps her mind clear of everything except _hurry_. Why did they have to live so far out? Damn Serena and her obsession with living everyday like it was Spring Break.

The sun's just beginning to set when Blair pushes the front door open. Serena's right there on the stairs, head slumped against the wall. Blair sits beside her, wraps her cold hand in both of hers.

"Is she…?"

"They took her away, Blair." She flinches at her own voice. Her head was so empty it was surprising when something actually came out.

_She was playing in the waves, but Nate wasn't there and the nanny didn't know the game. _

Blair wraps her in those ever-strong arms and they only move when Chuck rushes in. He touches Serena's cheek, but has no words. He travels slowly up the stairs, knowing he has to find something better in himself before he sees Nate.

Sometime in the future, Chuck will watch Serena run from the world without ever leaving her bedroom and he will wonder if he should have found those words before he found Serena.

**XOXO**

Serena sees Nate sitting in their rotunda. She sits beside him, not quite touching.

His eyes aren't red anymore. They're even worse. Those brilliant, cornflower-blue eyes are dull, and just a little bit frantic around the edges.

He gathers her into his arms, resting his head atop hers. She wishes it felt more like comfort and less like he expected her to disappear if he wasn't clinging tight.

"We can be happy again," he murmurs into her hair.

"I know." She buries her face in his chest, and he feels like every childhood dream she never knew she had.

So they try again. And again.

But they'd already had so many chances.

It was only fair that they had none left.

**XOXO**

_Fin..._


End file.
